


Snapshots Of A Father And Son

by AllesandraQ



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Death, Family, Fluff, Gen, Red Hawke (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 16:52:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18877270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllesandraQ/pseuds/AllesandraQ
Summary: The relationship between Zeus and Malcolm Hawke.How a father and son can go from close to so far apart.





	Snapshots Of A Father And Son

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Zeus Hawke: https://daoce.fandom.com/wiki/Zeus_Hawke

 

 

 

**9:06- Birth of Zeus**

 

 

  
Malcolm brushes back his red hair, as he eyes the boy in his arms. He smiles slightly at the tufts of red hair on his newborn son’s head.   
  
“Looks like he takes after you,” Leandra murmurs in a drowsy tone from the bed.   
  
Hopefully in just looks, Malcolm watches his son as he sleeps, his own heart beating fast. He had to do things to ensure his freedom, and he only hopes that his son only gets his red hair.   
  
“Why Zeus?”   
  
“Hmmm?” Malcolm looks up from the newborn in his arms, his son, to look at his wife, who gives him a sleepy smile.   
  
“You wanted to name him Zeus, love. Why?”   
  
“Name of a mage I knew,” Malcolm murmurs. He wonders if giving him the name of a mage would make the boy a mage. No… no it doesn’t work like that. But he wanted his son to have a good strong name, and the mage he knew with the name was good and strong.

“He’ll be a strong man,” Malcolm says firmly, looking back at his son. The babe makes a noise and moves, but stays asleep.

 

 

 

**Mid 9:07- Zeus is a little over a year**

  


 

Malcolm watched as the boy reached for the wooden toy. He watched as Zeus frowned at how out of reach it  was.

Leandra gets up, and heads over to no doubt get the toy for Zeus, but Malcolm holds up a hand. “Stop, love,” he says. “Let him get it.”  
  
“But it’s too far away.”   
  
“Let him get it.”   
  
Leandra bites her lip, but steps back from the toy. Malcolm smiles in thanks, and watches his boy. Zeus frowns, eying the wooden toy that is out of his reach and makes noises like he’s about to throw a tantrum. If he does, then Leandra most certainly  will make for it.   
  
“Zeus.” He makes his tone firm. It gets his one year old son’s attention. Green eyes meet his. “Get the toy, boy.”   
  
It takes some doing, but at first Zeus crawls, but it doesn’t get him to the toy fast enough. And just like a few times before, the boy struggles to get to his feet. Malcolm watches keenly- Zeus has been trying to walk for a bit now.

The boy takes step, wobbly, while holding the chair. Another wobbly step. He takes one more before he falls down, but he’s right by the toy. Zeus lets out one of those laughs, and Malcolm grins.

That’s his boy.

 

 

  
**9:08- Zeus is 2 years old**

 

 

 

“Dada.”  
  
Malcolm pauses in his reading, and looks over at his now two year old son.

Bright red hair, green eyes. Leandra says he looks just like him.   
  
“What, boy?” he asks, his voice gruff.  
  
The boy smiles. Malcolm feels himself soften.  

“All right,” He gets up from his seat, and scoops the boy up, getting a laugh in the process. He looks over at Leandra who was in the middle of darning clothes, who smiles at the two of them.   


 

 

 

**9:10- 4 Years Old**

 

 

 

“No.”  
  
Malcolm scowls at the boy. “Zeus.”   
  
The boy imitates him it seems, frowning back. “No.”   
  
“Eat the food.”   
  
“Don’t like it.”   
  
“Your mother made it.” Malcolm was not going to tolerate defiance like this, even if he was only four years old.   
  
“Tastes funny.”   
  
Malcolm scowls, Leandra tuts, and pats his hand. “It’s fine Malcolm. All children get fussy.”   
  
“No it’s not fine,” Malcolm says firmly, and points his fork at his son. “Eat, boy. We do not waste food.”   
  
Zeus continues to frown. “No.”   
  
Maker help him, give him strength.

“He’s only four, Malcolm,” Leandra says softly.   
  
“It doesn’t matter.”

 

 

  
**9:11- Zeus is five years old.**

 

 

 

 

“You will let your mother rest,” Malcolm says firmly, guiding his son out of the master bedroom. “She is tired.”   
  
“But she promised--”   
  
“She is tired, Zeus.” She’s carrying their next child, and seems to be a big bigger than the last time she was at this point with Zeus.

“Will you then?”  Green eyes meet his, and at first Malcolm wants to say no, no he was not going to read a story to the boy just so he could fall asleep. Zeus was old enough to fall asleep on his own.

  
But he meets his son’s hopeful gaze, and a few minutes later, Malcolm finds himself sitting in that small chair next to Zeus’s bed, and reading from the battered book.

 

 

  
**  
** **9:12- Zeus is 6 years old**

 

 

 

“Malcolm!”  
  
Malcolm looked up from the logs he was splitting for Bann Corbin at Leandra’s worried shout.

He throws the axe down and quickly rounds the small little hut they were able to build, and pushes open the door.

His stomach tightens, and his heart clenches when he sees what causes Leandra’s shout.

Zeus. And…

The room is coated in ice.

_Magic._

Malcolm closes his eyes.   
  
_Maker, I asked one thing from you, and you deny me._

“Look Papa!”   
  
Malcolm opens his eyes, and watches his son as he claps, smiling, happy. Not knowing or possibly understanding what he just did.

They would have to move soon. They’re too near a chantry, too many risks. \

“Papa! Ice! I made ice!”   
  
“I see that,” Malcolm says gruffly.   
  
The smile fades on his six year old boy. He frowns. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”   
  
Malcolm frowns at his son. “Did I say you did?”   
  
“You look mad!”

“Not at you,” Malcolm assures him. But he can’t stay in here any longer, witnessing his own failure. He turns and walks out of the hut, hearing Leandra call out to him.

He prayed for one thing. His boy to not be a mage.  
  
His prayer was not answered.

Malcolm headed towards the wood he was splitting. He would take his anger out on that, and then when done, deliver as he promised. Then they would leave  town, quietly.

 

 

 

 

**9:13- Zeus is 7 years old**

  


 

“But I don’t want to go!”  
  
“We have to go.”   
  
“No!”   
  
“Boy, that is not a response I want to hear from you,” Malcolm growls at his oldest. Leandra is doing her best to keep Bethany and Carver quiet as she packs their things. “You have twenty minutes to pack your things and get them in the cart. We are moving.”   
  
“We’ve only been here for a season! We can stay longer! I like it here!” Zeus’s frustration is clear and Malcolm hates it, but there is no choice. “Why do we always have to move when we’re finally getting used to place?!”   
  
“Do not argue with me!”   
  
“I want to stay!”   
  
“Well when you’re old enough to be on your own you can stay wherever you damn well please,” Malcolm snarls. “Eighteen minutes Zeus. Pack. Your. Things.”

Green eyes meet his, eyes that Leandra says are a mirror image of his. Defiance is heavy, Zeus’s stubbornness is taking route.   
  
“Don’t make this hard for Bethany and Carver.”   
  
That seems to pierce Zeus’s stubbornness and the boy’s shoulders slump. He mutters something and leaves the bedroom. Malcolm decides not to force Zeus to repeat what he said, not in the mood to deal with whatever it was at the moment.

He drops down onto the bed and sighs. They were settling in fine here. Then he got word that the building he was helping put together was going to be a Chantry. In a month’s time templars, sisters and a Revered Mother would be just minutes away from his home.

He wasn’t going to risk it.

 

 

 

**9:14- Zeus is 8 years old** **  
**

 

 

 

  
“This is boring.”   
  
Maker, grant him patience.   
  
“Why do I have to learn this?”   
  
“Boy.”   
  
“Father.”   
  
Malcolm turns to face his son. His eight year old son scowling son. “All mages learn this, Zeus. It’s beginning magic, practical applications and theory. You have to learn control and theory before you go further into the magical branches.”   
  
“I can control my magic!”   
  
Malcolm arches an eyebrow.   
  
Zeus’s face flushed. “I didn’t mean to freeze the carrots.”   
  
“So if you did not do it on purpose, then you cannot control it yet. Until you learn to control your magic, you will not learn further.”   
  
“But-!”   
  
“Boy, you will listen to me,” Malcolm snaps, his voice a bit louder than he liked, but his patience was stretched. This was the fifth time this week he and Zeus had this argument and he was done. “No more questioning me. You will learn when you show me you can control. Two years, boy.”   
  
“I can control it,” Zeus snarls, so much defiance in his eight years, his green eyes flashing, his hands fists.

  
Malcolm strides forward and grasps Zeus’s chin, forcing his son to meet his eyes.  “Then prove it.”

 

 

 

**9:14- Six Months Later**

 

 

 

 

His son proved it. Malcolm watched as Zeus threw himself into controlling his magic more so than he did before in the past two years. The twins were the ultimate proof. They no longer annoyed his oldest with their crying and needs for attention. He no longer had bursts of uncontrolled magic when Carver and Bethany both woke bawling in the middle of the night or in early morning.

“Cast a barrier and do not let it weaken,” Malcolm ordered.

Zeus did so, and he held it for an hour, his control and master of the simple barrier, without losing focus, made Malcolm proud. His son was faced with a challenge, and after finally being provoked into focusing on that, Zeus had evidently poured his everything into it.   
  
After it was done, Malcolm handed a canteen to Zeus for him to drink from. “Well done, son.”   
  
Zeus tilts his head up to look at him, defiance clear in those tired eyes. “I can control it.”   
  
“You can.”   
  
“I want to learn more then.”   
  
Malcolm arches an eyebrow. “What did your mother say about making requests?”   
  
Zeus sighed. “Please.”   
  
“Very well.” Malcolm pauses, and then palms Zeus’s cheek, and bends down to kiss his son’s head. “You did well, boy,” he says, his voice a little rough with the praise.

He feels his son lean into him and Malcolm closes his eyes, no longer feeling as stressed as he was when Zeus’s magic first appeared.

 

 

 

**(Later At Night)  
** **  
** **  
**

 

******  
  
** Leandra curls up to him in the bed. “You’ve been hard on him,” she says softly.   
  
Malcolm wraps an around her, pulling her impossibly closer. “I know.”   
  
“Why, love?”   
  
_Because I prayed for our son to not be a mage. Because I see myself in him, every time he questions and objects. Because we have to be oh so more careful. Because he needed to have ruthless control so if we dare to live on the edge of towns again, he won’t make a mistake._

“For his own sake.” Malcolm kisses her forehead. “It’s not just me that’s a mage, it’s two of us now. Any slip up could alert templars. We have to move enough as it is. I pushed him hard… but it was to keep us safe.”  
  
“You should have told him that.”   
  
“Perhaps,” Malcolm concedes. “But he was being lazy. He needed a push. He won’t be lazy anymore.”   
  
****

 

**9:15 (9 years old)** **  
**

 

“Why do we have to move so much?” Zeus asks. They were in the empty shed, practicing magic. He was learning Creation and it was just like the other branches Father taught him.

Unsatisfying.   
  
He didn’t feel connected to this magic- he could cast it, but there was something missing. He couldn’t explain it.

“Because we are Apostates.”   
  
“What does that mean?”   
  
Father sighs and Zeus frowns. “I want to understand!”   
  
“I know, boy. Apostates…” His father shoves a hand in his hair and Zeus watches him. After a few moments his father starts speaking again. “According to the Chantry, because we are not in one of their Circles, we are Apostates. Mages breaking Chantry law.”   
  
Zeus frowns. “That’s not good is it?”   
  
Father snorts. “Their law is unjust. They break up families, take children from their parents and send them to Circles far away. If templars found us boy, they’d send you to one Circle and me to a different one.”   
  
“It might not be so bad?”

His father’s face turns hard. “It would be,” he growls. “Because your mother would not be allowed to see you, or me. Because Bethany and Carver would be with her. You and I would have no contact with them. We would be forced to live under their laws, their views on how magic should be.” Father stares at him. “Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over them.”  
  
He heard Father say that a few times before. “You said Andraste said it once.”   
  
Father nods. “Yes. The Chantry says it just wants to protect us, but in truth, those Circles rule over us. They don’t  want us to serve man, they want to make us subservient. Do you know what subservient means?”   
  
Zeus nods, remembering his lessons from Mother. “It means to obey.”   
  
“To obey without question. They want us to bow to their laws, their demands, boy. They want us on our knees, obedient in every way, cowed to their view on who and what we are. They say we serve man by serving them, by living under their rule.” Father’s eyes darken. “We are not serving man in that way. Andraste would be ashamed of how we are subjugated. We serve man by helping others, by fighting battles and healing, by fixing problems, not by living in towers, guarded by templars day and night and only used by how the Chantry sees fit.”   
  
Templars. Mage hunters. That’s what Father called templars before, when he explained one time that Zeus saw a man in armor with a flaming sword on the chest, it was a templar.

  
“The templars hunt mages for the Chantry.”   
  
“Yes.” Father pauses. “Not all templars follow Chantry law to the letter though. Keep that in mind.”   
  
“So we have to move a lot because of the Chantry?”   
  
“Yes. They see us as wrong, and will not allow us to be like this. So we must keep alert, be on guard and watch for signs of templars and Chantry folk. We must keep our magic hidden and under control.”   
  
Control. That was why Father was so bossy about it. Zeus knew he had gotten a lot better with his control now, but now…

Now he will make sure he will never lose control of his magic.

 

  
**  
** **9:16- Zeus is 10 years old**

 

 

 

  
“You’re late.” The man spits on the ground.

Malcolm reigns in his temper, and he squeezes Zeus’s shoulder so the boy  will be quiet as well. “I got here as soon as I could with the delivery.”  
  
“As soon as you could. Doesn’t help if you’re an hour late.”   
  
“Apologies, sir.” What he really wanted to do was punch the man, or blast him with some magic, but Malcolm was no teen boy and he knew better. He kept his wishes to himself and apologized.

“What’s your excuse?”   
  
“The other half of your delivery wasn’t ready yet,” Malcolm says evenly. “The smithy was behind.”   
  
The man snorts. “Excuses. Your pay is going to be docked for this.”   
  
Malcolm’s stomach tightens and a few minutes later he’s handed a pouch where he’s told to split  with the smithy.

Instead of splitting twenty gold coins, he and the smith have to split seven gold coins and twenty silver. In the end he gets half of that.   
  
Enough to buy supplies- food and a couple blankets, but the food will only last a week, a week and a half if Leandra can stretch it out.

“Why did you let him do that?” Zeus finally says, anger and hurt in his words. “You should have done something! It wasn’t your fault! Nor the smithy’s for getting behind! His wife got hurt! Father! We needed the coin!”   
  
“I know that,” Malcolm says quietly.

“Then you should have---”  
  
“What could I have done boy?” Malcolm turns to face Zeus. The road to home was empty of people, so they could talk freely. For the most part.   
  
“Argue with him! Show him that he can’t just do that! You could have made him see that you wouldn’t be pushed over or or... “   
  
“How? With my magic? Is that what you think?” Malcolm presses. “You think I should have done something with my magic, force him to fearfully give him the coin he promised? Even though we were late?”   
  
“It wasn’t your fault and you just let him talk to you like that!”   
  
“Because if I didn’t, we wouldn’t  get any more jobs. No more jobs in this town means we have to move  again, because we won’t be able to get coin to feed you, your siblings, your mother and I.” Malcolm says simply. “I could have hit him- I’m bigger and stronger, but that man happens to work for the Bann. One complaint to the Bann and gaurds would be at our door. I would be arrested. Your mother would be upset, and you would have to be the man of the house. Or perhaps instead of the Bann’s men, templars. Then where would we be?”   
  
Zeus frowns.

“Actions, boy. Actions have consequences. Sometimes you have to take shit, because you have people relying on you and as much as you want to show that person their wrong and make them stop being an ass… well.” Malcolm sighs. “Listen to me boy. Everything you do, everything you say, every action you make- it has cause and effect. Consequences. You have to stop and think about what those consequences can be, what the cause and effect will be. If you can live with it. If you can meet your gaze in the mirror.”  
  
“How does meeting your gaze in the mirror help?”   
  
“If you can’t look at yourself, then the action and consequence from your action isn’t worth it. You might as well be a coward. If you can’t handle the consequence, the effect, the fall out of your deeds, then you have no business making such a decision, taking such an action. Yes, I wanted to smack the man, I wanted to show him I wasn’t a pushover, but the fall out would have been too much. So I let myself be cowed. But in the end, I can meet my gaze in the mirror.” He reaches out and grasps Zeus’s chin, making sure his son’s gaze meets his. “Keep that in mind, boy. Make sure, for now on, that you take into account everything you do. Every action, every word. Make sure you can meet your gaze in the mirror, otherwise…”   
  
“Otherwise you’re a coward.” Zeus finishes quietly.   
  
Malcolm nods.  


 

 

**9:17 (11 years old)**

 

“How is his magic coming along?” Leandra asks in a soft voice, as Malcolm quietly observes his son in the empty shed.   
  
“His control is good,” Malcolm states, knowing he’s understating it. If anything, his defiant willful son, in the course of a couple years after Malcolm forced him to prove he could control his magic, seemed to relish wrestling the mana within him under his control. As if he could dominate the magical part of him through sheer willpower.

Only eleven and he is doing more with his magic than those his own age in Circles are. He is learning and flourishing under the other branches of magic, although he still seems to be a little restless, not sticking to one branch, wanting to learn others. Not finding a certain type of magic that he seems to want to primarily stick with.   
  
That’s fine. Some mages never tend to click any particular branch, instead spread their talent to all the branches available.   


 

 

**9:18: 12 years old**

 

 

Zeus did something he knows will get him into trouble.  
  
He broke into his father’s trunk to look for spellbooks- books that had more advanced magic because he was bored just learning what Father wanted him to learn.

When he found something.

A book on magic that Father never spoke about.

Something about entropy.

While Father is distracted with Bethany, who just showed signs of magic, he can see what this Entropy is.

 

 

**9:19: 13 years old**

 

Malcolm knows Zeus is up to something. But he can’t pinpoint what.

The boy doesn’t  seem to be causing trouble, isn’t arguing with him about how Malcolm is holding him back from learning more advanced magic. An argument Malcolm finds ridiculous. He’s teaching Zeus the appropriate magic at his age.

But now with Bethany… his time and attention is now divided. Zeus is more than capable of learning just fine from the spells Malcolm set out for him, a sign of his self sufficiency, making it easier to concentrate on Bethany.

He wonders if Carver will become a mage as well… if the Maker will grant all his children with the so called gift of magic, just because Malcolm once dared to hope his first born would not be a mage.   


 

 

**9:20: 14 Years Old**

 

 

“Entropy!” Malcolm’s voice booms loudly, angry. Leandra stills in the washing of the plates.   
  
Leandra stills as she hears Malcolm yell.

“I like it!”  
  
“You broke into my things and stole one of my spell books and taught yourself that branch?!”   
  
“I was able to teach myself since you clearly had no plan to!”   
  
_Oh no._

A hand tugs hers and she looks down at Bethy. “They’re yelling,” she says softly.   
  
“ENTROPY MAGIC IS NO BRANCH TO PLAY AROUND WITH BOY!”   
  
“It’s not like it’s Blood magic! It’s not bad! Otherwise why would you have this book!”   
  
“I have it  to learn how to counter those spells! They mess with the mind, Zeus. You will stop teaching yourself this magic and pay attention to the lessons I’ve been teaching you!”   
  
“I like this branch Father! I feel connected to it, unlike the others! I’ve been teaching myself for a year now! I’m not going to stop just because you say so!”   
  
“Boy, this is my house, and you are my son, and you will listen to me!”

“”You’re just mad I  taught myself!”  
  
“I’m mad because you broke into my trunk and stole one of my spell books and been learning magic without an instructor! You could have caused some major problems, some accidents!”   
  
“I DIDN’T! STOP TRYING TO CONTROL ME!”

“I’m trying to protect you, this family, from your recklessness-- Boy, where are you going?! Get back here, I am not done!”   
  
“I’m going out!” The door slams shut and there’s silence.

 

************

 

  
“Reckless, foolish, defiant, stubborn,” Malcolm mutters pacing the bedroom, feeling his wife’s eyes on him as he does so.   
  
“Sounds familiar,” Leandra says softly.   
  
“I am not like that,” Malcolm stops and says firmly.   
  
“Of course not dear.”   
  
He narrows his eyes, fists pressing against his hips. “Leandra.”   
  
She arches a brow, mimicking him. “Malcolm. Did you or did you not court me when it was reckless and foolish to do so? Despite being warned off by my father? By others?”   
  
Her words reach him and Malcolm sits down on the bed, shoving his fingers in hair as he stares at the floor.   
  
“These arguments between you and Zeus will only get worse the more you act like that,” Leandra says softly. “I know you love and worry about him, but this demanding controlling side of you is worrisome.”   
  
“He’s worrying me,” Malcolm whispers. “He self taught himself entropy magic,:Leandra. I walked in on him casting a spell that was advanced… something a mage close to their Harrowing would be able to cast.”   
  
“He’s proven himself to be quite good with magic,” Leandra says, her tone still gentle. “Especially when you challenged him to control his magic.”   
  
“He’s a natural with Entropy… unlike with the other branches.” Malcolm closes his eyes. Entropy. A dangerous branch, one that lead to other paths. So many mages he met that learned entropy eventually turned to blood magic. “Leandra, entropy is a dangerous branch.”   
  
“Then when Zeus comes back, you will explain what you need to explain in a calm manner.”   
  
Malcolm snorts. “Nothing ever goes calmly with Zeus and I.”   
  
Leandra sighs.  “True. Well them, I’ll explain it to him.”

 

**(A couple hours later)**

  
  
It took a couple hours for Zeus to calm down and make his way back to the house. He stops at the porch where Bethy and Carver are playing on, and he sits down next to them.

Bethy looks over at him, abandoning the game they were playing and comes over to hug him.

“Hey Bethy,” Zeus murmurs. “You all right?”  
  
She nods. “You and Daddy fight a lot.”   
_  
Yeah. _

“Did we scare you?”  
  
“A little,” she whispers.   
  
He hears Carver snort and he shoots a look at his little brother before he wraps his arms around his sister.   
  
“Sorry Bethy.”   
  
“It’s okay, you’re back now.”   
  
He smiles and ruffles her hair. She giggles.   
  
“Bethany!”   
  
“All right Carver.” Bethy kisses Zeus’s cheek and goes back to join her twin.   


 

 

 

 

**9:21: 15 years old**

 

 

 

Despite Leandra talking to Zeus for him, explaining the dangers that Entropy can bring about, Zeus continued to defy not only Malcolm’s wishes, but Leandra’s when it came to entropy.   
  
His son went out of his way to learn entropy, even somehow got ahold of more advanced spellbooks for the branch. The scent that came off his son now, was most definitely tied to the branch. Bitter like the scent of some almonds he once ate, mixed with the faint smell of something that had started to go bad.

_Started to go bad._   
  
Malcolm couldn’t help but compare Entropy as the first step towards blood magic. Every entropic mage he ever met fell to blood magic. Every one. Despite Zeus’s bold statement of never falling to blood magic, a fear of his son falling prey to that temptation lurks in the corner of his mind.

Every time he tried to broach the subject with Zeus though, it was like when Farmer Rydell’s rams locked horns. Each conversation ended with yelling and doors slammed, and Leandra doing her best to smooth things over with Zeus later on.   
  
His stubborn defiant son was refusing to listen and Malcolm was losing patience and ways to try to make him listen. All Malcolm could do was focus on teaching Bethany and ensure that the girl would listen to him. While he figured out how to take control of a spiraling situation.

 

 

 

****************

  
  
Zeus splashed water on his face and then grabbed the ratty towel to dry himself.

He straightened and looked in the mirror.   
_  
_ _“Every action has consequences, cause and effect, Zeus,”_ His father’s voice echoes. _“Make sure you can meet your gaze in the mirror, otherwise you’re a coward.”_   
  
Cause and effect. Consequences. His desire to learn Entropy, finally clicking and feeling connected with a branch of magic has certainly caused that. Discord in the house, he and his father constantly at each other’s throats, Mother constantly trying to play peacemaker. Bethy  and Carver watching quietly in their corners.

A part of Zeus feels he should be ashamed, sorry, regretful over this. Over the fact that he loves learning Entropy, that out of every type of magic he’s learned so far, Entropy settles just right with him.   
  
But he doesn't. Despite what is going on here at home.

_Meet your gaze, boy._   
  
Zeus meets his gaze.   
  
He accepted the consequences when he started, when he was able to find an Apostate in the tavern that Father worked at, and buy a book of Entropic magic off of him. He accepted the consequences whenever he and Father got into an argument.

He was meeting his gaze, dammit.

 

 

 

 

  
**(A Few Months Later)**

 

  
  
“Do you enjoy defying me like this?”   
  
Zeus closes his eyes, his left hand forming a fist and smothering the spell that he was forming. He turns to face his father.   
He doesn’t have to look up to meet his eyes, he realizes. He’s as tall as his father now.   
  
How long has he been as tall as him?   
  
“Do you enjoy trying to control me?” Zeus returns.

Green eyes harden. “What you see as control is me being a parent.”  
  
“I’ve heard the arguments, the worries from Mother. I won’t fall to blood magic. I like entropy,” Zeus states plainly. He feels nothing but revulsion for blood magic. He has no wish to cut himself open just to gain more power. “I like this feeling of finally feeling connected with my mana, instead of jusy dominating it to keep it under control and cast what you want me to cast.”   
  
“Boy.”   
  
Zeus fists his other hand, feeling irritation sweep through him at that word. He was fifteen. He was not a boy.   
  
“You refuse to see me.”   
  
“I see you just fine. I see a defiant, reckless brat who is going to get caught and thrown in a Circle,” his father growls.   
  
Zeus blinks. “If you think so, then why do you continue to try to control me, if that’s my fate? Better to just let me fall to that, don’t you think?” He shakes his head as he hears Bethy calling for Father.   
  
“We are not done.”   
  
_Yes, we are._   


 

 

**9:22: 16 years old**

 

Zeus stalked into his bedroom, and grabbed a sack. He was leaving this place, he didn't care--

"And where do you think you're going?!" Malcolm's voice boomed out in the cottage.  
  
"Leaving," Zeus snarls.

A derisive snort is heard and he clenches his hands. "You won't last," Malcolm says, his voice almost taunting. "You're still a damn boy who thinks he can do what he wants. I give it a couple weeks before the templars find you and toss you into a Circle!"

"Malcolm!"  
  
"Stay out of this Leandra. The boy wants to throw another one of his fits and act like he's a grown man."

Zeus whirls around to face his father, the very man he had been arguing with all day. "I'm sixteen. I can handle being on my own. It'll be better than staying hear with you, the Dictator! I've had it, I don't need your so called protection, I'll do just fine on my own!"  
  
"Zeus!"

"I've done everything I could to teach you, to protect this family, and you call me a dictator?" Malcolm scowls, then shakes his head. "Typical. I never thought one of my own children could be so ungrateful."

"You're just mad that I don't need you and your stupid protection anymore! That I don't think your word is law, and that I don't bend to you. I know enough magic, and I can protect myself on the road!"

"You don't know shit!"

“Malcolm! STOP!”  
  
Zeus mentally  winces at the desperation in his Mother’s plea, and he sees something in his father’s eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it comes.

"I'm telling you, you walk out this door, you will regret it. You will drag your ass back home, with your tail between your legs and your head down in shame," Malcolm snarls out, as Zeus hefts his bag onto his shoulder. He brushes past his angry father, and heads to the front door.

"You won't survive out there on your own, you idiot boy!"

Every part of him wants to just hit his father, but he won't. Not with Bethany and Carver in their bedroom listening, not with Mother tearfully watching,

"You walk out that door, you better be prepared for the consequences!"

_Meet your gaze in the mirror, otherwise it’s all for nothing._

"I am," Zeus snarls out, finally turning to face him. "I've got every word stored in my head from you dammit. Ever Maker damned word, about facing myself in the mirror to owing up to mistakes. Everything you pounded into me, because clearly you have to be the lord and tyrant of the house. I'm done listening to you."

Malcolm's eyes, the same color of his, according to his mother, stares at him, hard and cold. "Then get out."

"Gladly."

“No, Zeus! Please.”   
  
Zeus turns to his mother and kisses her cheek.   
  
“You don’t have to leave, please.”   
  
“Yes I do. I can’t live with him anymore.”   
  
“Zeus.”   
  
“Bye mother. Give Bethy and Carver a hug from me.” He hugs her and yanks open the door.   
  
“Malcolm!”   
  
He doesn’t hear his father’s response as the door shuts firmly behind him.

 

 

  
**9:22-A Month Later**

 

Malcolm stares at himself, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

_You drove your son out of his home._ _  
  
_

_You drove your son away._

“Shut up,” he mutters. It was his father’s voice. He hated that voice.

Zeus made his choice. He made his choice.

_You should have stopped him._

_He could be dead._ _  
_ _  
_ _He could be in the Circle._

Malcolm snorted. Considering how his son is, if templars tried to take him to the Circle, then Zeus is most certainly dead.

_You might as well killed your boy._

His father, the piece of shit that he was, has been dead for years, but somehow he still lives in the back of Malcolm’s head.

_You're more like me than you thought you were. Than you tried to be._

“Never raised a hand to him.”   
  
_You didn’t have to, to drive him away._

_Malcolm takes a deep breath and meets his gaze again. He sees the shame in his eyes._

“Every action has consequences, cause and effect,” he says outloud. “Make sure to meet your gaze in the mirror. Otherwise, you’re a coward.”  
  
He was a lot of things, but not a coward.

  
  


**9:24: 18 years old- Lothering**

 

 

 

 

Zeus stands at the door of the small home, fists clenched.

It took everything in him to just be here.

He was exhausted, hungry, a little sore.

Plus the weather was absolute shit. It had been raining for two days, and now it was windy, and he was soaked and cold, adding to his exhaustion, hunger and soreness.

He stares at the door, trying to figure out how to approach this. Every time he imagined what would happen, in the end, it always came back to Malcolm.

Zeus closes his eyes again.

His father was right.

He didn't know shit.

But damned if he was going to say it.

Then again, just being here, was going to prove Malcolm right.

It was a long hard two years on his own. He thought he was doing okay... it wasn't easy, but he was his own man. Despite how he felt about his father, he had his father's lessons in the back on his mind, words of caution, reminders...

He hated falling back on them.

Then things got too harried recently.

He almost got caught. Almost got caught a few times.

Ended up killing a templar during the last time. It..it was a shock, and after he came down from it, he realized he needed to head home.

It took him a few months to track down his family again. They had moved. Had to. Moved to settle down near a small town called Lothering.

A few coins directed him here.

He shifted on his feet, wincing at the pain that shoots up his leg. He had gotten into a fight a couple days before, and he hadn't had the energy to bother healing the injury he has. It's a small, simple one, easy to heal, but he hadn't felt up to even casting a spell to light his way at night, let alone a spell to heal.

He missed Bethany. He even missed Carver. He did not miss his father, and he was ambivalent about his own mother, but he missed his siblings.

He raised his clenched fist to knock but the door opens before he does.

Standing before him is his father.

Malcolm eyes him, and Zeus waits for the look of scorn, of self satisfaction. He waits for his father to look smug.

Malcolm Hawke simply turns and walks back down the small hall, before turning right.

He hears a couple voices, and suddenly someone comes running out of the room and barrels into him.

"Zeus!"

"Bethy," he murmurs, his anger and defiance just going away at his little sister's hug.. well not so little anymore. "You've gotten taller."

"She shot up so much this past year," his mother's soft voice is followed by her as she comes into view.

Zeus enters the small house, making sure to ignore the pain in his leg as he manages to shut the door with his sister clinging to him. Leandra comes up to him.

"You look like you need some food and a bed," she says as she eyes his ragged clothes. "And new clothes..."

"I have some coin for that," he says roughly. "I just need--"

"I know," his mother leans forward and kisses his cheek. "Welcome home."

Footsteps are heard, and Zeus looks past his mother to find himself staring right at his father. He stiffens a little, straightens, and holds his head up, refusing to look down.

_You will drag your ass back home, with your tail between your legs and your head down in shame."_

He's not hanging his head down in shame, he's not going to act like he's coming home with said tail between his legs. He's owning up to his own mistake of leaving home angry, but he will never say it out loud.

He survived, but he's back.

Malcolm stares at him, and Zeus can feel the tension in his mother who hasn't moved away. Malcolm just snorts and walks off.

"Welcome home indeed," Zeus mutters.  


 

 

**9:25: 19 years old**

 

“It’s weird.”  
  
Zeus looks up from his spellbook, at his sister standing in his doorway. “What is Bethy?”   
  
“I thought this whole.. Not saying a word to each other would stop after the first week. But it’s been a year.”   
  
Well have to give his sister points for broaching a topic no one else has.   
  
He and his father haven’t said a word to each other since he came home.

“Things are much quieter,” he says gruffly. “I bet that makes Carver happy.”   
  
She gives him a look. “Zeus.”   
  
“Bethy. It’s not going to change. I’m not going to admit anything to him, which is what he wants. He’s waiting for me to do that. I won’t.” Zeus shrugs. “Figure me coming back would be acknowledgement he’s right. But no, he has to hear it. Well he’s not going to.

 

 

 

 

 

*************************

**  
**   
Malcolm could feel his wife’s stare.   
  
“I knew you were stubborn, but it’s been a year.”   
  
Malcolm doesn’t have a response to that. He’s glad his son is back with them, but for some reason he can’t bring himself to say the words. He doesn’t trust himself to. He’s afraid.   
  
He’s afraid he’ll open his mouth and say something that will cause another argument, that will lead to more arguments, and lead to Zeus storming out and leaving again.

“It’s better this way, Dra,” Malcolm murmurs, using the nickname he had for his wife that he hasn’t used in years. “Nothing good seems to happen when I try to talk to him.”  
  
Arms wrap around him and she kisses his neck. “I wish I could help fix this.”   
  
He sighs. “So do I, Dra. So do I.”

  
  


**9:27- 21 years old**

  
  


Malcolm grunts in pain as he stumbles, bracing himself against the door. He’s bleeding, and he needs to get to his kit. He’s lost a good amount of blood so far, but he needs to get to his kit, to stop the loss. If he stops it, he’ll be able to regain the strength to heal himself.

For the first time in years, he wound up opening his mouth and starting a fight.   
  
He snorts at that, and winces in pain, fumbling with the door.  Fight. Not much of a fight when it’s six against one. He’s lost his edge…

The door pushes open, and he groans at the pain that suddenly shrieks through him. His side feels on fire, and he feels the stickiness of his blood that’s dried, and the blood that’s dripping down his side.

_I’m not going to make it to my kit.  
  
Too late. _

He bumps into something else… not a wall, but a body.

_Please don’t let it be Leandra. Not his Dra._

A harsh grunt, and he vaguely feels hands on him. His back is on the floor, and the hands are holding him. He opens his eyes, and meets a familiar pair of green eyes. Sees red hair.

_Zeus._   
  
Zeus’s eyes are wide, filled with concern. But no words come from him and Malcolm grips his boy’s arm, as Zeus tries to move away.   
  
His boy knows that his healing kit is in the bedroom, but he doesn’t want Zeus to waste time going there. Not enough time left.   
  
He wanted to tell him he was proud of him, for surviving on his own, that he didn’t think less of him for coming back. That he was sorry for driving him away. That he loved him.   
  
He could do it. Despite the pain, and the fact that he was fading fast.

But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Just held his boy’s arm tight, as he fought to breathe.

_I’m sorry, my boy._

 

 

 

 

**9:40 34 years old**

 

"He was proud of you."

The soft mournful voice of the spirit, demon, whatever the void it was , says as Zeus walks with the Inquisitor. Those words strike him as if they were physical.

He comes to a stop and quickly turns to face the demon.  
  
"What did you say?" Zeus growls, his hand tightening on his staff… the staff that used to be his father’s.   
  
"Pride. Ego. Afraid. Loved you, but pride," the words spill out of the demon's mouth. Spirit. Whatever.   
  
The eyes met his, and he felt a ruffling in his mind before the so called boy looked away. "Hurting.. he was hurt. Dying."

An unwanted memory flashes through him. His father. The arrogant asshole who thought he knew everything and tried to control his family with an iron hand. The man he never spoke to when he came back home, and who never spoke to him.  
  
Zeus was the one that found him when he was dying. Malcolm Hawke got involved in a brutal fight, and was severely injured as he made his way home, collapsing just a few feet inside the home. Zeus was the only one home.

"Inquisitor, shut up your pet or you'll lose it," Zeus snarls before brushing past the group.

"He wanted to say he loved you. But...Dorian, I don't understand."

Zeus doesn't wait to hear what the Tevinter mage says to demon spirit. He had a job to do. He was going to do it, and if the Inquisitor didn't keep that thing at bay, he'd make sure to kill it before he leaves.

  
  
  


  
_  
_ **9:46- Edges of Lothering**

 

 

 

 

**_Here Lies Malcolm Hawke._ **

**_Husband and Father._ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_He will be missed._ **

 

Zeus stares at the gravestone, his father’s burial site on the edges of Blight ruined Lothering, untouched by it.

_He wanted to say he loved you…_ the demon had said.

Zeus scowls at the gravestone.   
  
“Asshole,” he mutters. He turns to Merrill who was just a few feet away, holding their one year old son. He smiles at her, and she smiles back, moving swiftly towards him.

She’s standing there with him, and sets their son down.

“His name is Mal,” Zeus says to the gravestone, “And no, it does not mean he’s named after you.”

Merrill laughs.


End file.
